Goggles and profound thoughts

While at the lake last week, I was savoring the hot day and the cool water. I swam a few laps, read a book, and thought about writing this blog.

There weren't a lot of people at the lake. But there was a large family. (Not large in size, large in number.) Among them were two little girls, who I'm pretty sure were sisters.

Well, one sister was using a pair of goggles and the other was not so patiently waiting to use them.

Their mom told Sister One she had five more minutes. And instead of using those five minutes, she was just begging for more time.

"Mommy! Twenty more minutes! Ten more minutes!"

All to no avail. And while Sister Two nagged her and laughed at her, she just cried and pouted, instead of using her precious five minutes.

I realized then that I must be getting older or more like my mother, because I thought, "You're wasting your time. Just enjoy them while you can."

And then a more profound thought hit me.

How many people in life are always asking for more, and while doing that, are wasting the time they have with what's right in front of them?

More money, more time, more stuff, some things are just never enough.

I decided right then to make a conscious effort to make the best of whatever situation I'm in.

Because when time's up, I don't want to be wishing for those five minutes with the goggles.

Check engine

I hate to say it but I'm one of those stereotypical females that ignores the check engine light on my car.

Once it goes on, I just ignore it, hoping it goes away. It never does.

My check engine light had been on for about two months. Naively, I told myself it was just the gas cap that hadn't been tightened enough, thus triggering the light.

Or it was just a ploy by the car makers to get me to spend some money. They must have set it to go off after x-amount of miles.

Well, they aren't going to fool me.

So I pretended it wasn't there. I drove to Los Angeles. I drove to Sacramento. The light was still on, but my trusty car got me to and fro.

Then I made the mistake of telling my dad.

"You need to get that checked out," he said.

Ugh.

Yesterday, I took it to a friend's who has that trusty device that tells you the problem. And of course, the book didn't have the code. So he just reset the light and I was off.

I drove to work, happy. I drove home from work, mad. That pesky little light was back.

I had done some Internet research, and turns out the code wasn't a small thing. It was rare - yay me. But expensive.

So naturally I over react, imagining I'm going to have to promise the repairman my first child.

I scream how I hate my car and I never wanted it in the first place.

But today, I made some phone calls, took my car in. Had the computer replaced. And didn't pay anything.

Now I feel a bit foolish about panicking before I knew the results. But I also feel relieved! Hooray!

My car and I definitely have a love-hate relationship. Yesterday I hated it. Today, I love it.

Kind of.